


The Dark and the Light: A Duck Perspective on a Pair of Secret Agents

by AnonymousDandelion



Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: "secret agents", Also bread, Ducks, Gen, M/M, POV Outsider, St James's Park (Good Omens), aka angel and demon, the ducks low-key ship aziraphale/crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26626450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousDandelion/pseuds/AnonymousDandelion
Summary: For the ducks of St. James's Park, the tall, dark agent and his round, light counterpart are a well-known, albeit intermittent, presence. Untold generations of ducklings have watched them circle, eavesdropped on their covert conversations, and eaten of their bread crusts.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 144
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	The Dark and the Light: A Duck Perspective on a Pair of Secret Agents

**Author's Note:**

> Lately I've had the urge to write fic, but no cohesive ideas for what fic to write.  
> Outcome, in this case: Ducks.

For the ducks of St. James’s Park, the tall, dark agent and his round, light counterpart are a well-known, albeit intermittent, presence. Untold generations of ducklings have watched them circle, eavesdropped on their covert conversations, and eaten of their bread crusts.

The most finicky of anatine epicures would perhaps complain that this pair’s crusts are not quite up to the caliber of Russian black bread. Nor, needless to say, can they be compared to Hovis with Marmite. In addition, the crusts do display an undeniable and rather unusual tendency to dunk (although never to drown) the hapless hen or drake consumer — much to the consternation of the light agent, and much to the amusement of the dark. Nevertheless, by all reasonable standards the dark and light agents’ bread is certainly still significantly more than palatable. It also has a notable propensity to taste somewhat like crépes, wine, or both, although the ducks’ realm of gustatory experience is limited enough that they do not recognize either of these flavors.

Crusts notwithstanding, this particular pair of secret agents is undoubtedly one of the more interesting couples of the many that come to feed the ducks whilst holding clandestine conferences and/or lovers' trysts in St. James’s Park.

The light agent gives off the distinct, powerful impression of being extremely English, extremely gay, and extremely intelligent.

The ducks do, of course, understand all three of these concepts quite clearly and easily. Extensive exposure to matters of political intrigue has rendered them entirely unnecessarily familiar with the equally unnecessary notion of nationality; their species is certainly no stranger to non-heterosexuality; and all the ducks of St. James’s Park are without question highly intelligent creatures, although there is a possibility that this latter fact may not have been the case prior to that long-forgotten age when the dark and light agents first began to grace the park with their rather infectiously intelligent presence.

When the round, light agent is at the park, things usually seem to go better for the other beings in the vicinity, human and anatine alike. The ducks are not surprised that the dark agent so frequently seeks the light one out.

Occasionally, when he thinks no one is watching, the dark agent turns into a snake.

It is probable that, in some time long ago, the first ducks to witness this transformation may have been slightly alarmed. If so, however, these initial reactions have been lost to all living memory. Nowadays, every duckling old enough to swim is taught that — while snakes in general are, as a rule, to be most strenuously avoided — there is no danger if the snake in question has been seen to formerly resemble a human, seems to cause perfectly normal pieces of bread to sink like a stone, and/or is keeping company and apparently communing with a round, bright, and fussy individual with fair hair.

The tall, dark agent is mischievous, and sometimes (although the ducks — being, as aforementioned, intelligent creatures — know better than to say so) quite kind. The ducks are not surprised that the light agent lights up even more than usual when he sees the dark one.

Despite generation upon generation of speculation and bread, the ducks have never been able to conclusively ascertain the nature of the agents’ relationship, nor to agree on how much of their obviously undercover arrangement is political and how much of it is personal. This in itself is perhaps a sign of the extraordinary ineffability of these agents and their arrangement, given that the ducks of St. James’s Park are, generally speaking, discerning experts when it comes to interpreting matters related to realpolitik and relationships.

While they may disagree on the exact division between the personal and the political in this instance, however, every duck will readily concur that the agents themselves often seem even less confident of where this division lies — if, indeed, there exists any such division at all.

The ducks hope, as their ancestors have hoped for countless generations gone by, that the dark and the light agents will eventually manage to resolve their uncertainty. The ducklings, ever so young and innocent and naive, peep the optimistic wish that perhaps next time the agents will figure things out.

The adults, the drakes and hens who are older, wiser, and more experienced in the ways of the world, shake their bills sadly and quack their doubts that anything will ever be enough to allow these agents to figure it out, short of the end of the world.

Ah, well. In the meantime, at least there is still bread.

The tall, dark agent and his round, light counterpart continue to come to the park to meet, and to circle, and to converse. And the ducks of St. James’s Park continue to watch, and eavesdrop, and scrabble for bread crusts.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much, as always, to anyone who leaves kudos and/or comments; it really does mean quite a lot to me to hear that someone else got something out of one of my odd brainchildren. :) I definitely had fun writing this, so I hope you had some fun reading it!


End file.
